Enemies
by FluffleNeCharka
Summary: [Drabble, takes place during 'The New Order'.] Omi's thoughts as he fought and conversed with his enemy, Chase Young. [Slash, ChaseOmi, oneshot.]


Author's Notes: Yet ANOTHER early morning fic. This time it's almost six in the morning, and I've been up all night. NO FLAMES. If you don't like OmiChase, might I suggest you quit reading OmiChase? Just a thought!

This takes place (again) during the episode 'The New Order', which if I'm not mistaken is episode 34. This fic starts right after Omi freed Chase, just to let you know. I watched the episode and noticed a gap between when Chase quits fighting Omi and when Jack enters the hideout (I mean, something HAD to happen in that timeframe.) Thus, this. Please review, and thank you very much for reading!

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Despite the pain in my heart, I began to circle Chase the way he did me. This was still battle, and he was still the enemy. He may have been an enemy with eyes that could take my breath from me, and a voice that made me want to blush, but he was still my enemy. Still evil. As long as he was evil, I would have to fight him because I, Omi, am on the side of good, not evil. Skilled an enemy as he was, I had to fight. The problem with fighting this enemy was that he was so tricky.

"You really should be more careful who you trust," Chase told me, his voice smooth and laced with undertones.

For some reason, that hurt. More than it should have. I felt the strangest pain in my chest at the way those strange eyes were staring me down. Our footsteps were in time now, like a type of dance. I had never felt so strange. Then I remembered yet again that he was my enemy. Anger flooded through me. Why must it be that it was so hard to hate him? Why was it that his voice could do so much to me? He had taunted me after I saved him, the ungrateful evil warrior that he was, and for some reason, it burned me up inside. I was having a hard enough time remembering to hate him without his commentary.

"That seems only to be a problem when I trust you!" I shot back. For the briefest instant, he grinned. My anger was his joy. My enemy loved seeing me like this.

I lunged at him and of course he dodged again and again, lithe body moving with no apparent effort. He was making a toy of my mind once more. I clenched my teeth. I was tired of all of these games he played. His calm was infuriating, even though I could not help but notice how handsome he looked, features composed in battle. Then it struck me what I had thought, and I shuddered in disgust. I redoubled my efforts, fury pounding into each move. Even so, I wasn't challenging my opponent any. His blows were fast, but not furious. I suppose after a few centuries, he is not as easily provoked.

"Repulse the Monkey!" I shouted, but he blocked me without even turning around. In fact, he closed his eyes.

I was both amazed at his grace and angered at the same time. However, feeling two very different ways is common for me when fighting Chase Young, so I tried not to pay any attention to it, or how my heart was beating faster than it should have been. Strange things happen to me when fighting this man. Things I cannot explain. But I had to keep on fighting regardless. He is, as I have told myself hundreds of times before, the enemy.

"You've learned well from our last encounter," Chase said coolly, back turned to me. The arrogance of it!

"Well, I was taught by the best." I reply, realizing too late the double meaning that could have.

"Thank you."

For some reason (yet another feeling I can't explain) it was nice for a brief fraction of a second to hear him say those words. I enjoyed his thanks because usually, anything that came out of his perfectly curved mouth had a double meaning to it, or was part of a ploy. It was pleasant to hear him thanking me, like a friend. But, as always, my mind reminded me that I am sworn to defeat this man, not revel in his presence. Again, I grew angry. Chase Young could throw deception into anything, even a thank you!

"I was speaking of Master Fung!" I snapped viciously, surprised at my own tone of voice.

I attacked him, but Chase Young is a skilled warrior despite his evilness. One moment I was aiming for his face, the next I was face down on the floor. His blows hurt not just my body. Once again I was in mental pain from what he had done. Why? Such a thing had never occurred when an enemy hit me before. This was insanity in its purest form. No sooner had I thought that and flipped over than Chase's sandal was digging into my ribs.

"So," he declared with a flourish, grinning madly. His demonic eyes positively glowed, and I felt my body tense. "Have you reconsidered my offer to join me?"

For a moment, I was sorely tempted. More so than I had ever been in my life. Then again, my body was injured in a stranger way than ever before in my life. My palms were sweaty, my heart was racing, my cheeks were hot, and on top of it all I could not look away from those strange, evil eyes. I felt entranced; spellbound. However, even in that moment I knew he was as dark and deranged as they come, so I could not. I could not even look at him without being careful, let alone join him. It violated everything I knew as a monk to consider it. For the twenty-something time that battle, I told myself he was the enemy. Evil.

"No!" I objected, clenching my fists to keep them from shaking. "I owed you a favor! And now I have repaid it."

His grin, that smirk that haunts my nightmares and leaves me stunned, appeared instantly. I hate that look, combined with the look in his eyes. It's as if he can through anyone and plan something with that knowledge in a matter of seconds. I hate that look, because it's a sign he has something planned for someone. And he makes no attempt to hide that look from me either; rather, his reptilian eyes seek mine out before it appears, as if he wants me to catch on. My enemy loves mind games.

"You may be closer to joining me than you think with that little white lie." His hideously beautiful voice shocked me into a response.

"I do not lie." It was not a brilliant response, but it was all I could muster.

"Really?" he asked as he removed his foot from my side. Oh, no. The tone. The tone of voice he used for schemes. "You mean you didn't free me for your own self interest?" At this point, I got to my feet, but my eyes never left his. "To stop that nitwit, Jack Spicer?"

He had a point. I despise it when Chase Young has a point. The strange admiration for him that I try to ignore always grows whenever he strikes home like that. How he pinpoints these flaws in people, these tendencies, I'll never know. I looked away, finally ridding myself of that awful influence his eyes have. But I could feel my enemy's gaze on me like an ice cold weight.

"Well, maybe," I confessed, smiling sheepishly at having been caught and putting my hands together. "A little." My voice wavered.

"Isn't that what evil's all about?" he enticed, voice barely above a whisper. Suddenly I was hanging on his every word. Damm that tone of his. "A lie here, a little bad there." He moved closer, and I fought with myself not to look closely at the shape of his body. His freezing cold hand moved over my head. "Suddenly it's all so easy." Was it just me, or was Chase sounding seductive? I shuddered, unsure of myself.

Chase was beginning to seem like less and less of an enemy. His words were ringing true, and that made him less evil in my mind, somehow. He was starting to make sense, and I could logically see what he meant when he said that, even though it may have sounded deranged.

With that said, he paused for a moment to let me think, his hand sliding effortlessly off of my head. I shook. I stared at the ground, trying not to shake. Was I evil? Could it be that maybe Chase was correct in his twisted thinking? Or did I merely have evil tendencies? I did not know. All I knew was that Chase's hand had chilled me so badly, I was shivering. I turned to him, and then it happened.

He kissed me.

It was unlike anything I had ever experience before, and in a way I enjoyed it. At first, I was in shock and did not grasp what was happening. Then, I realized what was going on, and suddenly it all made sense. Chase's strange actions, the undertones to his voice, even talking to me as he just did – he loved me. Or did he? I was not sure if evil villains loved, but this was as close to love as Chase could probably get. His stone-cold lips were pressed harshly against my own. The sensation was powerful, and when his tongue moved inside my mouth, he tasted bitter. I suppose it was not that much of a shock (the taste, I mean) but I was so amazed that I simply stood there, hands at my side and eyes closed as my enemy did what no enemy should have. Finally, sensing my need for air, Chase broke the kiss.

I gasped, blushing shamelessly. However, my honor had already been ruined when Chase realized my lie, so I figure it was safe to ask him something.

"Chase Young?" I questioned softly, "Are you in love with me, or is this another of your tricks?"

His face slackened, and I knew I had caught him off guard. It was incredibly rare, but it had happened. His eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed in what almost looked like sorrow. For once, he was the one who could not meet my eyes instead it being the other way around. Chase did not look at all like my enemy then. He looked more like a friend, or something deeper. I could not stand to see him like this. He looked deeply troubled for a moment, and I reached out to touch his hand. This startled him as well, and for an instant his eyes softened and he smiled in an almost loving way…

Until he grabbed my arm and threw me behind a pillar.

"Jack's coming," he hissed, "Follow my lead."

And we were back to being enemies.


End file.
